


Lost in the Mind

by wildgirl509



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Cannibalism, Diary/Journal, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Memory Loss, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Past Abuse, Past Character Death, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-26
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-11 02:38:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7872796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildgirl509/pseuds/wildgirl509
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A man tried to figure out what was going on. He didn't learn in time. He had to figure it all out the hard way, and adapt to the sanity before it consumed him. Of course, adaption has its losses. (Mentions of @malice-and-macrons Sebastian Sinclair.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going to try to update this every other day, so let me know what you think in the comments!

I have to write it all down again before I forget. It happens so much, I can't think straight sometimes. I wish I had my pain killers, everything hurts.

I'm Jason Rhode, I'm twenty-eight. Born and raised in South America, moved to North America when I turned twenty with my grandfather and my mom. She meant so much to me, I wonder how she is. There's no way I'll ever see her again, not the way I am now. She was diagnosed with full liver cancer on my twenty-second birthday, so my grandfather put life insurance on her and waited for her to rot. I kept up three jobs to keep that from happening, but they all just... Didn't serve what I needed. Until Murkoff showed up. They came at the right time, at the right angle, it really WAS too good to be true. They told me I could work there if I got a basic degree in Psychology. I had been working on it since I had gotten to north America, but since my mom was so sick, it had just slipped away... I promised them, went to college and still worked, and I guess that's when I had to give up the pain killers for cigarettes.  
After I cleaned up my act and got to work over there, everything kicked in like a miracle. Mom had insurance, I was paying for life support and keeping a fund for liver transplant, and my grandfather had no say in the matter. I guess the good news was such a relief, I didn't care what they did. That was my first mistake. My second, was getting attached to my patients. I talked to them, like most psychologists did. Although, I was supposed to ask a LOT about their dreams. Not like I knew what they meant at the time, so I asked them more or less about their PLANNED dreams. What they wanted to do when they got better, what kind of lives they would leave. I should have listened. I didn't. I never really did listen very well. And I was sworn to die here when that contract was filed as permanent.  
I guess it isn't really that much of a surprise that Eddie was a favourite of mine. Tall, graceful, a real charmer, and that Southern accent was intoxicating. It didn't mean I was ATTRACTED to him, I just played favourites more than I ought to had. Let him go outside if he wasn't feeling good (with restraint, of course), didn't really push about him talking about those women he killed, let him draw when he didn't have a whole lot of fight in him. I suppose he thought of me as a kind soul or something, otherwise he wouldn't have fucked me up like this. I don't really know, his mind was so crazy, but this isn't torture to me. Not anymore, anyways.  
Am I even a man still? Probably, I mean, he didn't really do anything else besides remove my dick, so maybe it just counts as not being able to have sex? Those stitches itch still, even after I cut them out of the scar tissue. I need my pain pills so bad, I can't remember where I left them. Maybe I left them in my room. It's all too fuzzy for me, this all just happened so fast, I think I've lost my mind in this shithole. It wasn't always like this, but maybe that's just the old me talking about this place. The one that has their memory, and can remember it from before. I wonder where Eddie is, now that he's on my mind.  
I guess the first day of getting this book is why I named it Day 1, but really, I can't remember when the outbreak happened. Was it two days ago? Two weeks? Two MONTHS? More likely two weeks, the smell of all these dead bodies are finally turning off to me. When was the last time I ate something that I once called normal food? I think that thing about Wendigos are complete crap, but maybe it's just because all the mirrours here are destroyed to bits and I've been eating scrawny meat. It isn't all that good, it needs to be cooked a while before even resembling meat. not that I mind, I have to be a good wife and learn fast, right? I wonder where Eddie is. It's been a few days since I've seen him. I think I'll search for him again.  
I don't have my dick anymore. I don't really remember what it felt like. I guess I felt like a man? I don't know how I'm supposed to tell when this scar tissue itches so bad, but it's probably because those stitches were so thick that when I pulled them out little strands got left behind. Maybe I'll remember tomorrow, after I find my medicine. I think they're still some in the office, or maybe I just need to get some actual FOOD in me. I don't think I've eaten in a day or two, but it's really hard to keep track when the closest thing you have to daylight is poor light fixtures that busted when the power was finally cut off a few days ago.  
I have to go now, but tomorrow I'll write what I can. Memories, what I see, anything that gets me something that resembles my sanity back. I'm afraid something's going to happen, and I'll lose it all completely. I want to stay whole, but I don't want to lose myself again. It's a cold night, and I'm wearing this dress again because I haven't found a good way to wash my old uniform yet. I'll figure it out soon.

 

\- Jason Rhode


	2. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another day, it's all I have. I've got to grind through and work my way up to life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter. Mostly filler? I'm finally going to get some sort of progress in the next chapter, so hopefully this won't bore you too bad and scare you off. Until Day 3!~

I went scouting in the ward rooms today. There are a lot more people alive than I originally though there would be. Maybe it's because I don't think on them much. Maybe it's because Eddie told me to stay put when HE went scouting... A lot of them kept mentioning something called a 'Walrider', guess I'll have to look into whatever THAT is, but I don't want to join some random church just to be fucked over by a false god. It's happened plenty of times that I'm not all that worried.  
I don't understand when people wail and cry about this guy named 'Father Martin'. I asked one of the patients and they called him a priest, yet another called him a sacrifice to carry them away from the burden of the Walrider. I think I'm safe from being nuts, but these guys are just as lost as I am, so it isn't right for me to judge. I found one that didn't fight a lot. Or at all. Just... Knelt in prayer, whispering to himself as he had his eyes shut so tight I thought they were sewn shut for a moment. I wasn't going to hurt a living patient, so I have to scavenge from the dead bodies to find something that ISN'T induced with organ rot. All this blood, painted on the walls, and covering the floor only to be overshown by exposed organs and entrails.... I don't get sick, not like the first few days, but this blood is going to ruin my dresses if I walk in it, and Eddie probably would get mad and hit me again, so it's best to walk around in my uniform.  
I saw sunlight again for the first time. I didn't go out, because I didn't want to get in trouble, but I saw it through a broken window. It was so warm, and so relaxing... I stuck my hand in it, and I looked like ash buried by that glow. I almost didn't want to LEAVE that window, but no one will fix it up. I don't think anyone's sentient enough to try, anyways, so I can come back whenever it seems fit. That room is empty, and I felt like it'd be a nice place to stay, but I don't know how I feel about a gaping openness right there next to me where anything can get in, so I'll just stick with my bed. I'm sure that has something to do with my memory, but I can't figure it out yet.  
I cleaned up the hall a bit. Whoever left those bodies probably wasn't thinking all that much, so I decided to give the place a cleaner look. Surprisingly, the freezer in the kitchen to the entrance of the gardens was still functional, so I stuffed most of them in there to preserve whatever I could for food. Whenever did I start EATING people? When the food ran out? When I got hungry after two days of being alone? It feels so long ago, but I know that the break out wasn't even a MONTH ago. I still never understood what happened. Maybe I wasn't meant to know what happened, and I was supposed to become what I am. I feel like that's a punishment, but why am I being punished? Did I do something wrong? Was it because I didn't follow whatever this 'Walrider' thing is, like everyone else does in this bin? I'm sure there MUST be a better reason. I'll figure it out sometime later.  
My pain killers went missing this afternoon. I probably misplaced them again, but it still makes me worried. I'm not very good at functioning without them, and when I think about what happens when I'm off of them.... I don't want to remember things like that, but ANY memory is better than none, so maybe it's good I learn to remember what that feels like. I'm trying to write in this every day, but I wake up and I keep forgetting what's going on, and I always wonder why there's a book in my hand, and I hope when I read it it will spark SOMETHING back into me, but so far all it has done is kept me from too much thinking and rather keeps me sure I haven't gone and done what I once thought was unthinkable. I can never do it. I can NEVER think of that as a good, or final option. I won't. I can't. I have to protect my home, and I have to protect the few LIVING here, whether I die or not in the process is unimportant to this cause.  
The moonlight is almost as pretty as the sunlight, but not quite. It's silver, instead of honey, and it's less than the other. I sat there again and watched the moon. Was it always that big and beautiful? Was there always those twinkling sparks all around it in that abyss of black? I wish I knew, but seeing it again feels like seeing it for the very first time, and all I wanted to do was stare at that big and beautiful thing. I need sleep, being off of my pain meds make me woozy, and I haven't had anything to drink today. I think i'll explore the rest of the floors tomorrow, but until then I just want to sleep and find some water. I want to live, if that's all it takes. I have to sleep. This bed is so empty without him here to hold me, I wish I could see him again.

 

\- Jason Rhode


	3. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few sentient people? This can't be right... Who is that? What's that red glow?? Why.. Why is that face so familiar?

I saw someone else today. Someone with their mind in tact. I was so scared at first, it made no sense! But I don't know what to think anymore, I'm just so lost, I thought I had finally broken and started going bonkers.

I was doing a round of walking in the main halls from the building I used to work in, wearing a blue dress Eddie had made me since it wasn't as bloody as the other floors, And as I was about to turn into the main room... Something made me stop. A glint, I think, something shining in my eyes. I was so confused, maybe I thought it was glass, but I still looked around the corner... It was a person, with a long sword. God I wish I hadn't of seen that, or else I would have been able to miss the red covering their hands. Not the red of blood, because that is slick and shiny, and almost a black shade, but the mist that seemed to seep out of their flesh, that seemed to just be... Floating out, in this harsh shade of neon red that made my eyes water a tad. They were pulling their sword out of a corpse, and it was like magic... They turned towards my hall. I barely pulled away in time, but this feeling of DREAD just ate at me, so I hid in the bathroom, next to the entrance.  
I'm not strong, and I'm not clever; but I know for a FACT I am not stupid. They knew I was there, and I knew they knew, but I wasn't about to approach someone with a sword like we were old pals. And that RED... It... It terrified me for some reason. I could feel it in my bones, that red wasn't human, and it wasn't pleasant. I could hear their boots clicking towards me, and all I could feel was this sudden urge to look at this person again, but I also knew that was a fifty fifty for death, and that isn't a good statistic, so I kept in the bathroom. The boots stopped in front of the door. They knew. I knew. And yet I bit my tongue and kept quiet. And then the door creaked open, and the voice spoke out softly to me, "I know you're here. I won't harm you." Like THAT was reassuring??? But I was trapped anyways, so I suppose making an appearance was either going to happen by my choice or not.  
And then, the most confusing thing happened. They walked away. I was stunned, I could hear those boots clicking away, but.. I didn't want to be alone. Not yet. So I followed them. I probably looked like a stereotypical stalker, hiding behind corners, going down the same rooms they did... I wasn't sure this was the right move at first. But all I could do was walk and listen.  
I think our little game stopped when they tried to get me to follow them into the basement. I'm not sure anymore. I don't particularly LIKE being under ground level. I could see, even through the thick black locks that hid their face from me, that that red mist wasn't just coming from their hands anymore. Their eyes were misty as well. I should have noticed it. I should have KNOWN it was coming. But they were so fast I was disoriented, and that blade was pressing to my windpipe, and all I could see were those dark eyes, surrounded in that heavy mist. I won't lie; I was petrified. I may have been taller, but that meant nothing when they had me on my ass, pressed to a wall, a sword on my neck that I damn well knew could kill me without a second of hesitation. Their voice was so low and cold, I thought my own tongue would freeze. They asked me whom I was, and why I was still in this place. I suppose answers would have been nice, but it was that HAZE, it just kept me silenced, and I started itching at the scar on my navel.  
That seemed to have grabbed their attention more than anything, looking at where my hand was scratching and at my dress.... That sword was gone faster than it had been pulled out, and those eyes seemed to lose that incredible haze, settling back into that humane look. But I couldn't forget. That red was burnt into my mind like a branding iron. They offered me a hand up and I took it, just to show I wasn't, well, HARMFUL, and their skin was like ice. Were most people like this? Maybe not. They had a lot of questions, about who I was and how I had gotten here, but also about my dress, and about my body. I told them the truth, I didn't really feel like lying to someone that could ultimately destroy me. They were very quiet, which bothered me a lot more than anything, so I asked them just a simple question, really, the first one I could think of. "Have you seen Eddie Gluskin?"  
They were bewildered for some reason, asking me if I had forgotten what I had done. Does that mean they stalked me too? Then shouldn't they know about the memory loss too? I didn't mention it, and asked them what they meant. I almost didn't believe them. Almost. Going outside? That's ludicrous! Eddie DEAD? Bonkers! Me... Burying my beloved... That felt like ice as my heart registered what it meant. And I just... I cried. I didn't care that whomever that was saw. I didn't CARE that I had sunken to the floor and looked like a lost little lamb. I had been living without Eddie and didn't realize that I had to bury him myself. They asked me if I wanted to go outside and see the grave. I told them no. I ouldn't. Not yet. Not until I would be able to remember it for good. But I couldn't. I can't yet. I just cried...  
I stopped after a few moments, but it had obviously made the other slightly estranged at my outburst. I didn't care. The only person that had ever loved me was now dead, and I couldn't remember how it had happened. I told them I wouldn't bother them, but asked them if they had seen my pain medicine. They had not cared to look. I didn't want to trouble them, so I just nodded, told them about my being there, and left. They didn't have any reason to fight with me. I had not killed anyone. I had not hurt another patient. I was just trying to live and find my beloved... And he's gone.  
It's hard to sleep, knowing that he's rotting somewhere in the ground that I had to chose. Did I mark it? Did I put flowers on it? Did anyone disturb it, thinking it was just poorly dug dirt only to raid his beautiful body for things? It makes this bed feel a lot bigger, and his side feel a lot colder. I just wanted us to be able to leave this place, together, alive, and well enough that we could have gotten ACTUAL help. He could have lived, and I didn't do a damn thing about it. I need sleep. I need it so bad but all I can do is cry and wallow in my misery. Maybe it's just my imagination, or maybe I was just finally going low enough to lose my marbles, but as I cried into my pillow, I felt a small hand, rubbing my shoulders. No one was there... Were they?

 

\- Jason Rhode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot! This turned out so great, I loved writing this chapter! I might have the Warden in more, but for now it's going to be fuuuun to write this out as it goes! You guys have an awesome day!


	4. Day 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't want to believe it. It can't be real. I didn't see it. But so many things that I thought were impossible have bared their fangs here... Why shouldn't it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fun little character mention! Nothing is going to be very active, but just wait patiently, my little Variants.~ Time will tell the tale at the till.~ Have a nice day!

It's dark. I guess I should have wrote at sunset, but it's just... Did I really see what I saw? Maybe the hallucinations have been getting more vivid. This isn't real, it's just... A misunderstanding, my brain made.

Today was an easier day, now that I knew the Warden wasn't going to kill me if I accidentally walked into their territory. Given, they started slashing the wooden posts near the door frame to show me where I wasn't supposed to go, but some places just ended up out of my place and it happened. As I walked around.... I heard footsteps. Not soft ones, either, like the Warden's, but heavy boots stomping. I rounded the corner and saw these Army men, but just as soon as I saw them... There was this mix of red, and black, like this horrible smoke, but the scariest part of it all... Was that the Warden showed up. I had NEVER seen their work in person, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to unsee it. It was beautiful, and so precise, I was mesmerized. The red and black were so organized, only one of the men were smart enough to try and run away, but I stopped him myself. I don't LIKE killing, but he would have gotten away! I had stolen these large scissours from the elevator, and just.... Sliced. I had killed twice before, all during this time, but the expression on this man's face as his blood ran down his vest from his neck.... It was horrifyingly beautiful....  
I was removing his vest and checking his pockets for bullets, just in case someone decided to steal their weapons and try to do something stupid, and I found a photo. It had he man in it, with a young woman, and a little girl. I left it on his person and broke the barrel of his gun, but it got me wondering... Was there ever a girl in my life? Was I ever married? I don't think so, I don't have a ring, but even so, maybe I was just dating someone? I don't think so about that either, but what do I know? I helped the Warden with busting the weapons and gave them the bullets and clips. I don't know what they'll do with them, but it isn't worth leaving them there in the open. They asked me if I saw the fight. I nodded at them. They asked me if I saw something unusual, but they had a touch of hesitation in their voice, like they weren't sure if they should ask. I told them the truth, that I had seen their sword skills. I didn't want to mention the smoke and mist, mostly because I didn't know what to call it, but they seemed satisfied with the answer, so the subject was dropped. But, that wasn't what has me rattled. What makes me scared is what I saw at sunset.  
I was at the window, looking out at the colours, enjoying the last bit of warmth... And then I saw it. A person, wearing a white hoodie. I couldn't see much, but the Warden was there, and they had two bodies and missing parts. I watched, and I saw the two talking, the people with their limbs missing... Moving. They were alive. They were alive and the Warden had made them hold their limbs, and I felt sick. Wasn't that a type of horrid torture??? But the person in the white hoodie seemed to be very considerate of what the Warden was saying, even leaving their hands outside of the hoodie pocket. And then they nodded. And the hooded figure grabbed the men by their collars, and started dragging them with him. But... He was walking AWAY from the Asylum. As in, into the wilderness surrounding this place. Did they have some place outside of here? Did they do this with some Variants?? Did the Warden SELL surviours that they didn't kill automatically?? I hope not, because that means at some point I could be sold like livestock to some figure that was so pristine and white that I was blinded a bit. I heard the men screaming. I heard them begging for help as they were dragged off. I heard it, and I heard them wailing and begging for help. And what did I do...? I turned away, and went into my Ward as if I didn't see. I felt filthy, knowing that I could have helped and didn't. They must've had families, people that depended on them and CARED about them, and I just turned away as they were pulled out of a nut house.  
I'm wearing his extra polo he made. It's loose and big, but it smells just like him, and I feel so scared that I just needed something of him. Of Eddie. I love him so much, I miss him every single day that goes by. Maybe I really WAS his bride in this life, and I had to endure a punishment to be perfect for him. I have a sensation that I think of when I think of him, thought I can't understand why. A pain, like a fist in my gut. It's a ghost sensation, but still, why would he ever hurt me? Maybe I did something wrong, or maybe it was a pain just from the scar. I think I'll try to figure out tomorrow, but my medication is making it so difficult to stay awake. I miss my Eddie so much. I love him.

\- Jason Rhode


	5. Day 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I met someone new today. They seemed nice. Why was everyone so afraid of him though, I ponder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellloooo, everyone! Decided to give Miles his time to shine, so why don't we get this chapter on the road? I hope you guys are having an awesome day!

I haven't seen the Warden today. Maybe they're trying to round out some of the people praying in the rooms. Who knows?

I found out that these people fear a single man. I found out on complete accident, but it was nice to finally figure something out on my own. Although, truthfully, he isn't all that terrifying, but maybe it's something I haven't seen yet. The man was going down the hall with the broken window, and I entered the hall behind him, and I noticed some doors that were usually opened were closed, some had things outside of the doors, like books and pillows, and some people were at the door, bowing to him. He was beautiful, so poised and powerfully tall. I couldn't see his face, but he wore a thick leather brown jacket and blue jeans, paired off with brown boots and all complimented by a healthy heaping of blood on all of it, his brown hair washed and long. I followed him down the hall and watched as he looked at some of the patients, but he simply kept walking. He went down the hall and down one which was partially blocked, but he squeezed through. I followed, and tried to keep my noises minimum. I was fine with following him until I noticed he was leaving the building. As in, outside.  
I haven't been outside since this all happened, maybe even longer, so I was VERY uneasy as I followed him out of the window. The sunlight was so enveloping, but I wasn't going to enjoy it yet. I had to figure out where he was going. We walked through a basketball court, and there were a lot of heated and rotten organs, but no one seemed to notice. There were two larger guys on our path, but they didn't touch the man. They saw me and growled lowly, but as soon as he raised his eyes to see them, they went silent. I was careful around them, I wasn't going to fight someone that was double the man I used to be. They wanted to follow, but I didn't understand why they didn't. We walked and walked, the grounds bloody and green and full of flowers, but he didn't stop to look, and didn't stop to look at the bloody fountain. He didn't stop until he got to the tower, and started climbing up the ladder. I hate ladders. Noisy, vertical... Needs decent balance to get up. I let him go a ways before I followed him.  
When I got up and over the wooden boards, he was standing there, looking out. I followed his eyes, and it was... Breathtaking. It was a view for the world, the red no longer in sight but the green and sun bright. I stood beside him, and then, I finally talked to him. He jumped when I did, like he didn't notice was actually behind him. Maybe he didn't. I told him that the view was nice, but he seemed at a loss for words. I probably look like a wreck, wearing this tattered gown, hair down, unshaven... I can't imagine. He asked me if I was a girl, and then if I was originally a patient. It was a hard question to answer, if I was a girl or not. I don't think it changes anything if I don't have anything, but I didn't want to be wrong, so I just told him that I used to be a worker and avoided answering. I offered him a smoke. He said yes. I keep a pack in my room and a pack on me, but he had some matches, so we made it an even deal and I passed him a cigarette. He told me he couldn't remember the last time he had a smoke. I agreed. He laughed. Maybe it's best I didn't mention that I was speaking literally instead of metaphorically.  
He then asked me a really strange question. "Why aren't you afraid of me?" I didn't really know how to respond. Because he was a normal man to me? Because he didn't really frighten me? Looking into his eyes, though, I noticed they were different than any others I had EVER seen. Blacks where the whites were, and these dark brown irises, almost faded with the black itself, and the same sort of mist that was on the Warden, but black instead of red. The black was much less frightening than the red, I think, probably because it was less intense and bright, but rather it was soft, and faded. I told him the only answer that really seemed to fit. "Because I'm not right in the head." I had NEVER heard such a laugh in my lifetime, one that was so full and firm. He threw his head back and HOWLED with it, and I felt my cheeks get hot because he just looked so adorable. Not that I would ever cheat on Eddie. I'm not a whore. He asked me if I had been here a long time. I told him as long as I could remember. He chuckled at that, but I didn't know if it was really that funny.... Until he told me about what the outside was like.  
He talked about his home, and about people he missed. He talked about this place that had lots of beaches, and seas surrounding it's land. I don't believe I've ever been to a beach, the way he described it. Sand, soft and golden, and these blue waves.... I wish I could draw, just to be able to see what he was talking about. He talked about a home he could never return to, and how much he missed his job. He asked me some questions to, but I don't think I cared much for replying... Because his face was so intense when he spoke, so expressive, so... Alive, unlike anything else I had seen in this God forsaken place. Even the Warden seemed expressionless compared to the way his mouth moved and twitched, his eyebrows creasing and raising... His softened expressions when he talked about his home... It was so beautiful....  
We went through three cigarettes whilst we talked, his laughter and jokes so weird but captivating. For someone that made everyone tremble in fear, he was a really nice guy, minus the extreme vulgarity of his jokes sometimes. I hope I can talk to him more, he really seems like an amazing person. He mentioned to me something about being a host, and that he was scared he would hurt me. Thinking back on it now, maybe I chose the wrong way of comforting him, but at the time it felt right. I intertwined our hands, his thicker and calloused fingers making mine look dainty and less scarred, and I lied my head on his shoulder. He was quiet, but it seemed like he had relaxed from that fear. I didn't ask about his missing finger. If he didn't mention it, I didn't want to ask. It isn't right for me to ask about something wrong when I was wrong myself. We stood like that for a while, my hand with his, my head on his shoulder, smoking like chimneys and watching the garden. When we left, he helped me down the ladder and walked me back to the Female Ward, and asked me why I stayed there. I told him about Eddie, all that I could remember, and he seemed a little sheepish. It was so nice to make a new friend, even if he IS afraid to hurt me. It's still nice to see new people.

 

I'm not crazy. I never leave my hands unwashed when I go to sleep or touch this book, but SOMEONE is reading this while I sleep. Someone left an ash smudge mark on the second page, and I'm scared to find out what they know. Why? Why did they read my journal? Did they watch me sleep? Was it the Warden? Was it the man I met? Or maybe it was someone else... Whoever you are.... What do you want with me? Why me? Are you following me? Do you think about killing me when you see me asleep, clutching this book? What interest do you have in it that could POSSIBLY make you read it with so little pages filled? Please.... Don't hurt me, at least not while I sleep. Wake me up if you're going to kill me, because a death in my sleep is the worst kind of death you could ever give me.

 

\- Jason Rhode


	6. Chapter 6

Don't be scared. I'm not going to hurt you. I want to help you. I didn't see you in the window, but I helped those soldiers and got them home to their families. I want to get you home. I want to help you remember. I want you to get off of this medicine and back into where you belong. Don't worry, I never harm you. I just want to protect you. Don't be afraid. I remember you, Jason. You always asked questions, and knew too much. That's why this happened to you. Don't worry. I'm willing to help you fix it.


	7. Day 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who did it!? WHO WROTE IN MY JOURNAL!?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I keep you all waiting long enough? Ahh, I'm such a sucker for suspense. If you guys are mad, don't forgive me yet; I'll be gone for a few days and be unable to update. Anyways, enjoy your read!

SOMEONE WROTE IN MY JOURNAL! The hand writing is DEFINITELY not mine, too sharp, too narrow... Who wrote in it? The Warden? No, their handwriting is so much articulate, more of a doctour's signature than writing. But why did that person say they wanted to help me? Did they know about my head? Did they know about her? Or Eddie? Or maybe Miles' hands? God, why were they so VAGUE!? I want to throw this book across the hall, and rip out that STUPID page.... But I can't yet. I need it. It means I'm not really alone. It means someone KNOWS and wants to HELP. I need all the help I can get, honestly, I'm so disoriented nowadays....  
I walked with the Warden today. They were silent, and I didn't really want to bother them with too many questions, but something bit and nagged and scratched at the back of my head like a damned dog, so I guess I was more surprised by what had stumbled out of my mouth moreso than Warden was. I asked about Chris Walker. The last time I thought about Chris Walker was when I was being chased in a garden... Maybe in a dream? It must have been a nightmare, with that... Fountain of blood. It was so grotesque... They paused for a moment, and I tried my best to stay with them. I.... Really wasn't expecting an ANSWER, much less one like their's. "The Walrider killed him." I asked about the Walrider. Was it a funny question? They laughed at me, and told me I should ask Miles. I just... Wish someone would be straightforward about whatever it was! That just.. Bothered me.  
I asked them if they had any family, or any memories of family. They seemed to stagnate in their head for a while. I was almost regretful of asking, until they told me that all they had was this place. I felt... Sad. Sorrowful? Maybe it was just the feeling of sharing a grave with someone that had more of a chance at life than you did. It's a cruel and sadistic feeling, knowing the Warden had so much more of a chance than I did, and yet we would be remembered the same way.... They asked about my Mom. I don't.... Remember why, but at the time, I felt this... Heat, in my gut. And then I was crying. And I was spewing Spanish... Did the Warden understand me? I didn't mean to say what I did, it was just like some sort of boiling point was tapped with a heated piece of metal. I apologized immediately, but I don't know which frightened me more. The lack of knowledge as to what they meant of it being my emotions, or understanding what they meant about it being my HUMAN emotions.  
We were silent after that. I got that part of them wanting the silence, but it made my skin itch. Would Eddie have held my hand? Would he have cared? I hate thinking that way about my husband, but then I remember what he did to me, and my scar itches and burns. I just... Never want to look at that pathetic mess of mutilation. If I do, I'm afraid I'll get sick... The Warden asked me about if I bathed. Wasn't that a weird question? If I BATHED? I guess I didn't smell all that pleasant to them, after all, I AM dragging corpses and pieces everywhere when I get the chance, but still! Then they asked me about my shoes. Shoes? Why shoes? I don't wear any! I wear socks sometimes, but they get so filthy, I just wait until it feels right, like walking over dry ground, or carpet. I told them I didn't know. They told me I should get some shoes so I can go outside again. I don't like going outside on my own, but they said it would be better for me.... I might think on it... Maybe later. I asked them about the writing in my book, and showed them that page. They asked me about the journal itself, and I told them about my memory problem and that I used it for records. They seemed pleasant, telling me it was someone named Sebastian Sinclair, the boy in the white hoodie.  
From what Warden told me, Sebastian is about my age, and has a brother. He also had a lot of problems with... Eugh, Jeremy Blaire, for putting him in the Morphogenic Engine. God, I remember learning what was really happening... I was so quiet, but I had written down which patients went missing, and I asked a few guards... One was so easy to derail and to get him to tell me the truth. His mind was a lot like Blaire's, easy to just... Twist, with the right words. He told me everything, about Chris, about Wernicke.... And then I went and lied down... And the Riot just.... It all is so hazy... Sebastian was a patient in the books after he was 'too nice' to the patients, and he had gotten on Jeremy's shit list. Jeremy was just a prick... So, now he was "infected", and I guess that's why he left as soon as he could. Warden liked him, so I guess he didn't really make too bad of an impression otherwise. I bet we knew one another. I can't wait to find out if we did. I might remember when we see one another. I hope so, at least.  
Warden is my guide now, I guess. My parent? God, I'm so confused by this place, but I can't leave. Leaving means exposure. Exposure leads to poison... I'm toxic. I'd taint everything that everyone sees. I popped three pills a minute ago. I'm so tired. So so tired. I'll get some sleep, and see if I can see Sebastian tomorrow. He might be able to do as he hopes and helps me get better. I might be able to help him talk about what happened. We all know we need SOMEONE to keep us from falling into the sickening waves of insanity.... But I wont leave this asylum. It's my home. It's my hope. And if I leave, I'm letting go of all I know. And that's more terrifying than being a sick and twisted patient, because at least the patients can remember what it was like to be a normal human being. I hope that God destroys Murkoff, and I hope that I get to see the end of those sick and twisted bastards that HURT my patients.

\- Jason Rhode


	8. Day 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warden was polite enough to introduce us. I wonder if the Warden ever had someone important in their life like we did. It was hard to wonder, my mind can't keep up with what I want...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellooooo, everyone! I'm back from my WONDERFUL break, and as an extension of my good mood, I'm going to try to write THREE chapters today! I hope everyone's excited, because I've been thinking up ideas all weekend long!

Warden started it off. Politely, of course, I don't think they could be anything otherwise, but a polite introduction is always fair. I was supposed to be quiet and wait to talk. I'm not mad about that. We all met in the garden, next to where his body lied under the earth.

Sebastian seemed a little younger than myself, and a bit more twitchy. He had burn marks on his face, but I don't think they were from a fire, unless that Pyromaniac got his claws into him. I didn't ask, it would be insensitive. We shook hands and I guess he wasn't exactly comfortable with all my hand scars, because he seemed to cringe. Maybe it was the fact I had that stupid ring over my thumb from my blade, I couldn't tell. Maybe it's because my hands had... sort of fresh blood on them. He asked me to walk with him, but I put some flowers over the grave before we left. He asked me who was buried there. My Eddie... My sweet, sweet Eddie.... I told him the truth, and he nodded and we started our walk.  
I hadn't been outside in a very long time, so the rocks and sand and grass all made my feet feel very refreshed. Dried blood and concrete really wear at the soles if you do it for so often. We talked about small things, about the weather, and about the flowers and bushes, and about my clothes. I wore my cleaner jumper today, since I was meeting someone new, but I don't think it was that impressive. Grey or not, I was still bloody and dirty and wearing a skirt. He asked me if I had thought about bathing in the past few weeks, since everything was calming down, and if he'd like me to bring some supplies so I could. I didn't really know what to say, because I don't think about bathing all that much. I think about living, and protecting my home, but I guess a bath would be nice. My hair is so firm my mattress is jealous (heheh), and I don't even know the colour it was. He asked if I wanted to shave, too. I think that'd be nice, but my face has that hollowness to it, so I think it'll stay a little while longer. But I thanked him for the offer enough as it was.  
Then we started talking about other things. About what I remember. About what he remembers. We tried to keep it on the topic of work, because neither of us were really ready to face what had been our reason for being here. He remembered my detail orientation, and he laughed at how it used to make him a little on edge. I told him about why I did that. I don't remember it, but I know why I do it now, too. Because I want to be ready, for when it becomes part of my favour to use it. The soldiers trying to come in here, and their open necks. The Warden, and their uncontrolled temper, and the slight double step they do if something is heavily familiar. All little things that can help me in the long run. He asked me if I remembered any details about him. I told him the details I DID remember, although not specifically about him, like the way Jeremy would linger too long at corners if someone was talking, and how some nurses would rub their stomachs before the women were removed from the area, and how some of the guards used to have certain itching spots and how their skin was much thinner in those areas. He was very surprised at some of the things I remembered. I was too.  
He asked me about the guards that watched my sessions, and if they sat in with me. I always had a good habit of pulling those tiny strings, ones that you needed perfectly cut nails for in order to even LOOK at them. I had my sessions in private, and with the guards outside rather than in. He laughed at me and called himself jealous, but I told him that since my job was so minuscule to others, that I only had level one clearance. He asked me about Jeremy Blaire. I told him I remembered a lot about him, mostly him being a prick and making me need to be a smart ass a little bit when he got me into his office. We both had a good chuckle at a few old memories, even if most of them are faded. I haven't laughed in a good time. It was so perfect, I felt so much better....  
I asked for his help. He seemed very delighted at my ask, but I think he wanted me to be asking about sessions and what not, like our old job. I put the pill bottle in his hand right as he started getting overly enthused. He was very confused about it, reading the labels and expiration dates, all of it. I need his help. I asked him to fix my dosing. I know he isn't a doctor, and I know he isn't good with medicine like some people were, but I'm... I'm TIRED, of needing these pills. I'm stuck. I'm hooked. It's tying me to Eddie, and what he used to do to me, and how he kept me his bitch with that thing I needed. How it made me think I needed HIM. I know he's my poison, but I'm trying to get him out of my blood... I asked him to just keep it to where I get less pills a day, and for him to talk with me, like we did today. I feel clearer already, and I'm so glad he said yes. I hope we can be good friends, even if I do die in this shit hole. He has freedom. I want him to USE that freedom. I want him to be able to fix that mess from the outside.   
He asked me if I wanted to leave when I walked him to the gate. More than anything would I want to leave this place, to go to Alaska, to be able to see snow and to drink hot chocolate and wear a sweater and hold someone that loves me for who I am.... But I can't. I never had the option of leaving this building, not anymore. He asked me why not. I told him my reason. I told him my only reason that I am stuck here, that I cannot leave this bloody damned building behind and to restart anew, and to see what I've forgotten. 

 

 

 

Because if I leave this asylum, my mutilations, my mental state, and my heart, would take over me, and I would truly no longer be Jason Rhode. I would be a hollow body that roams in that town, and I would be someone else. I want to leave. But I want to leave as Jason. I can't. I won't. So I'll be Jason, with Warden, and Sebastian, and my dead darling. Until I die from inner gut rot, or until I die of being thrown off a ledge. I will die. And I will die in this building.

 

\- Jason Rhode


	9. Day 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We talked again. We went deeper this time. Was my hair and skin always this colour...?

He brought me some nice shampoo from town today. He said it was bad, but considering it wasn't organs or smelling of rotting meat, I thought it was heavenly. It reminded me of carnations, with the way the scent was so filling. He also brought me a bar of soap, since the ones here were either missing or bloody. It was very thoughtful. I think I'll try to repay him sometime soon. Maybe try to make him something? Eddie always said I had the WORST fingers for sewing, so I can't do clothes...

We walked to the area with all the baths in it, found one not occupied with a dead body or smack full of blood, and I rinsed it out and we filled it with water. He insisted it was hot, so I didn't fight, but I haven't felt hot water in so long that I'm honestly a little worried. He told me to do whatever I wanted, so that he would be outside. He left, so I stripped down and started with my body. it was... Mesmerizing, to feel this again. I almost forgot what it was like to enjoy something like this. I could have sat there forever if it didn't mean I would probably end up dead. So, instead of taking my time, I scrubbed myself down four times to make sure I got it all, and the water was so... DARK. I had to rerun some water so I could wash my hair, but I made sure it was warm instead of hot. I could do more heat when I felt safer. I scrubbed my hair and scrubbed and scrubbed and SCRUBBED. I think I had to do it six times to finally see nothing come out with the suds, and then I did it again for good measure. I was feeling... Better, once I rinsed off completely. Cleaner than I had in what seemed like years.  
I walked out and he seemed rather surprised. He asked me if I had always been this dark, and I guess it was supposed to be a joke? I'm not sure. Then he looked at my face and just seemed.... Amazed. He laughed and told me my freckles were cute. i felt a little embarrassed, I won't lie, but it did feel nice to be told something nice after so long of being alone. We walked back to my new room and I grabbed some different clothes, but instead, he checked another room and grabbed me a clean patient uniform. I put it on, and he said I looked like a new man. Then he asked if I was trans. I'm... Still a man. I'm still a man, aren't I? Just... Without... my genitals... I told him no... But I felt so... Hollowed out... My scar itched horribly. I can't get rid of that damned ITCH.... He seemed upset by something my face read... I should feel apologetic, but I wasn't. Not right then.  
We walked again, and he just kind of watched me. I felt a little awkward, but I didn't tell him that. It's a physician's job to watch their patients closely, right? I also noticed his scars had started to touch the bridge of his nose, and the ones on his hands had gotten darker. His eye was also losing the focus it had, and the blue turning more grey. Not that I told him. I'm sure he'll read it in my journal when I sleep. He asked me about my family, and about what I remember about them. I guess nothing in particular was his option, so... I started talking about Mom.  
I remember all about my Mom, even if the memory has gone well faded. Her dark black hair, her bright green eyes, her soft skin, and the way she smelled if you hugged her and held your face on her neck. I remember her coming to America with me, trying to fix me, trying to make that BASTARD a new man... I remember the cancer... I remember her in the hospital, that glow in her eyes gone... That smile she wore dimmed, only for me... Him... Him.. HIM.... That bastard beating her until she was unconscious. That bastard forcing me into drugs... Him, wanting her DEAD, just for LIFE INSURANCE! His ugly blue eyes that made you want his face as purple as he made mine. The pain. The hatred... All of it... I remember my Mother, but my Grandfather is a disgusting shit stain that'll always be stuck in my brain as long as I live. I guess, in a way, he was the reason I ever fell for Eddie. I'm just like my Abuleta... I'm a helpless, lovesick kitten...  
I had started crying at some point. I don't remember it. I just was. I asked him about his family too. He told me about his mom and dad, and about the car wreck that took them. He told me about the younger sister he never really knew. He seemed... Distant, whilst mentioning Riley. At first it was a pain, a deep pain in his head that I knew very well. I sort of... Held him, and asked him to keep talking to me. He started to cry too, talking about how his brother was attacked, and how he lacked an arm... And how he was the reason it happened... I held him as he talked. It seemed to help him tremendously, talking slowly and softly about the good times his brother had with him, and how he worked with us as a guard. He was an amazing brother in Sebastian's eyes, supporting him no matter what, always helping him, always protecting him.... I let him cry, holding him and letting him cry into my shirt... I cried into his hair and we let out a very big build up of tears that time, sitting on the steps of the asylum, sobbing about the family we love, the family we lost, and the family we had no idea of.... We finally stopped crying, and we both let out an awkward laugh. I think I felt lighter. I think we both did. He smiled at me and said it was the first time he had really had anyone to hold on to for some tears. I told him something funny. 'I'm a therapist. It's my job to let you cry.' We both HOWLED at that joke, and I think we really felt so much better, glad that we finally had someone to share that little fucked up piece of hell for family, someone that we could retell memories to for when we finally felt that we could be... Ourselves. Jason and Sebastian. Our cores, exposed, soft and needing someone all the same. He told me that he can't visit tomorrow, that he had to see his brother in the hospital. That was alright. I would have done the same for my Mom. I wonder if she's alive, or if she even got her antibiotics. That wretched curr won't get a damned PENNY if she dies... I hope, whoever my Dad is, that he needs this money as much as he's going to get. I wish I could have met him before I had to stop... I remember Mom, holding me, telling me about the handsome man that came to visit her before my grandfather found out... I told him to tell Riley I said hello, and that I hope he gets better. Sebastian smiled at me, and told me he would. We hugged. He left. I went to bed, feeling better than night than I had before in a very long time. For once.... I felt like my old self again. I love that feeling. I want... For it to stay this way, for a long time. Maybe as long as I can. Maybe for a moment. I want this feeling forever. I want to tell Mom, how much I miss her. Maybe it's fate that I'll never see her again, for how could she love someone that wears the face of her son, and the soul of her father? -Jason Rhode


	10. Day 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today had a little more planned for me than I thought. That's fine! Finding more means more to find out anyways!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put this chapter in more of a story perspective than in Jason's perspective this time. I don' t know WHY, but I wanted to, so I did! Probably I wanted to put in more details and stuff and just writing his perspective kept that away. Unless you guys like it, it'll just be a one time thing. Deuces!

Another day is all it takes to get someone moving. Another day for him to try and take on the world like he has to, each time he wakes up. He rolled out of bed,watching those colours light up the skies. Another day. He was going to live another day. And that was all he needed. Just one more day to keep going.

He went and did his usual stop with Warden, walking with them down the halls. The conversation was easy, if not just so usual now that it was like a repeating musical album. "How are you this morning?" "About the same as you, Warden. Just a little tired, trying to make it through the days as they come. And you? Are you feeling alright?" The smaller nodded, Jason giving them a small grin. "You look much better. Cleaned up. Bathed." He touched his own cheek, humming a tad before answering, "Not completely clean, but trying to get there. I'm still wearing the shakes." The smaller raised their head a bit to make eye contact, raising a brow. Jason gave a small laugh, the grin slight but prominent. "You haven't noticed? I'm slowing down on the pills. Sebastian offered to help, so I told him to keep me on them on a decent dosage. I used to just pop them when I felt... Well, anything." He looked at his clean clothes, touching them. "I guess... I want to get better. To look at... What he did to me." He frowned softly, touching the scar lining to his underside. "Do you go by different pronouns?" "Huh!? Well, n-no, I mean... I'm still a guy! Just... A little messed up, you know? Not really any different except I don't have that piece of me..." The Warden grunted, walking on. "Pardon me, I didn't know it was a sensitive subject." "Oh, no, it isn't sensitive! I'm just... A little confused myself about it."  
He walked up to the floor above them, parting politely with the Warden to find Miles. It didn't take long, going to the tower once again and finding him there. He wobbled up the ladder and took his place next to Miles, offering him a smoke. Miles took the cigarette and lit a match, the flames catching on the dried tobacco and painting the tip a beautiful glowing orange. "You know something?" "Mh?" "I don't know if I know your name yet." Jason let out a small chuckle, looking at him. "Jason. Jason Rhode's my name." The black eyed male seemed to mull over it, cigarette planted in place between his lips. "Jason.... Hm! Not bad. I think it's better than calling you patient, so-" Jason erupted into a fit of laughter, confusing the other. "What's so funny?" "I-I never WAS a patient! Hahaha! Oh gosh, you called ME a patient! That's golden!" The other seemed to frown, turning to face him. "You looked like a patient when we first met, alright? I didn't know." Jason noticed he struck a hard chord and stopped laughing, looking at the garden. "Ah... Sorry.... I guess it was just funny to me, because I took care of some of these people..." He leaned onto the railing, sighing and closing his eyes. "I didn't know what they were doing... I was used as a cover..." Miles seemed to soften, "Ah, s-sorry.." Jason looked at Miles' left hand, looking at the missing finger and dried blood, then at his own hands. "Did you bathe?" He looked to Miles, blinking. "Uh, yeah." "THAT'S what's different! You have freckles! And your hair is so much LIGHTER!" He turned a pretty shade of pink and turned his face, looking to the ladder. "Uhm, th-thanks...!" Miles laughed, grabbing the other in a side hug, shaking him with a big grin plastered on his face. "Awwwwww, blushing little baby!" "H-hey!!"  
The sunset he spent in the garden, picking up flowers and random rocks he liked as he studied the grounds, planning on cleaning it up even the smallest of bits. He felt a bit of a chill and looked over his shoulder, trying to find it. Something was watching him. Someone was staring at him. And he didn't like that feeling. He turned again slowly, trying to ignore that feeling, but he knew better than to just ignore eyes on him. So, he gathered his flowers and pebbles, and went inside. He went to his old room rather than his new one, until the eyes left his back. He waited a couple more minutes before leaving the room and going to his own, putting the flowers on his walls and the rocks on his desk, studying it with a curious eye. Any form of decoration made it feel less like his death row prison room, so he was willing to try to fix it up in any way possible. He wondered if Warden slept somewhere. He knew Miles slept in the tower, he had a mattress up there, but the Warden only seemed to gather living patients and roam the halls in case more soldiers showed up. Maybe he should ask. Maybe it's best he doesn't know what's going on with the Warden. He couldn't comprehend half of it anyways. Maybe he'd try to figure out if he had any old hobbies tomorrow. Sleep would have been the greatest gift anyone could have given him. Well, second best.  
"Jason." He turned to the voice at the door. The Warden stood there, looking just as ever, their hair in their face and hands at the sides without any real emotion to it. "Yes?" "Come with me." He picked up a small red pebble and followed the Warden, slipping it into their back pocket without any fabric lifting or raising suspicion. "May I ask where you're taking me?" They took a sharp turn and he followed, stopping in front of a normal-looking room. The Warden opened the door, showing a small office. "What... Is it?" "Your office." His eyes widened, stepping inside and looking around. "I had an office? Why?" He looked at the broke computer monitor and opened a few drawers, pulling out some paper work, some doodles, and a photo. He studied it, him obviously, but with someone else there. A guy. "Who's this?" "How should I know?" He stroked the picture, sitting in the chair and trying to figure out the face in the picture. He didn't seem old, maybe the same age as he was now? Definitely not related, the skin was too dark, and the hair was black as a raven's feathers. "I found it on a run. Thought you would like to see it." He stood and walked close to the Warden, watching their face for a few seconds before giving them a tight squeeze. They tensed, but he didn't force the hug for long. "Thank you so much, Warden!" He held a bright smile, the other's lips tilting up at the corners just barely. "You're welcome. Don't hesitate to look around."

 

He spent the rest of his night in there, studying his old things, that picture pressed to his chest under his shirt, as to keep it close for when he remembers. He was shocked. He was excited. He had found SOMETHING! He owed the Warden the world....


	11. (A little OOC Mention for Everyone!)

Hey everyone! I know I haven't been updating a lot lately, but it's been a little hectic recently, so don't worry! When everything chills, I'll keep going on a roll! Love you guys!

-Admin


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